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River of Stars - Act I
Snowfall Basin - Crown's Refuge ---- ::Located in the north-western quarter of Crown's Refuge, the area known as Snowfall Basin is quite an impressive sight indeed. Delicately balancing nature with culture, Snowfall Basin maintains the Syladris population of the freehold by providing them with a large area that remains suited to needs that have only recently been discovered. ::Set around the basin itself - a bowl-shaped cold water depression carved into the surface of the bluff that Crown's Refuge sits atop - it is unusual by just how much it differs from the Human residences just towards the east. Open-air pavilions and gazebos provide much of the structures that the Syladris call home, while leather tents scattered between these more permanent structures offer a more suitable means of privacy than the depths of the water should such things be required. ::A number of deciduous and evergreen species of tree have been planted amidst the area, turning the "Syaldris Quarter" into one small forest around the large stretch of water. Some pavilions stand taller than others, indicative of status within the newly forged cultural identity that the Syladris are attempting to shape, though all that can be seen feature flowing couches and benches that serve to adequately support and provide comfort for such an unusual half-breed race when they're not otherwise coiled around an overhanging branch or lost beneath ripples of icy water. ::A blanket of fallen leaves and short, lush grasses surround the basin and the various structures and statues that inhabit the area, all contained within a short marble wall that defines the perimeter of this large region of natural beauty and architecture. Paved trails leading towards the east and south lead back to their respective pathways, while the shadow of Tempest Spire looms ever-present towards the southeast. ---- It is the Tenth hour by the Shadow on Shadowwatch, the 31st day of Whistlewind in the year 628. Here there be snakes - Oh, most, at this hour, are being languid despite the cold, among the tents in the Basin that most call home, around fires and with story and laughter preparing to settle in for an evening. There, with two Wildlanders and a small hand drum, one greenscale female sings, swaying in time to a recent tavern bawdy. But near the shrine proper, the blackscale Aesyeri works with a broom, doing his best to sweep off the stones of its small walk and.. promptly getting them dirty again as his coils shift dust back onto them - not that he does more than smile at it, making slow progress regardless. A slight woman, cloak drawn close around her steps into the courtyard, eyes wide, a smile playing on her face. "Cor," she says again and again. "Such pretty pretty..." Her steps are slow as she carefully wends around the tent headed for the shrine. Seeing the broom-weilding Syaldris, her steps become more tentative. "G'eve," she say, lifting her hand to wave. Aeseyri actually has to turn a couple of times to get an angle on the voice - the first, he twists, impossibly flexible.. but in a way that gets him a bit tangled in.. well.. himself for a moment. Then, he works that out, laughing softly, and offers a bright smile to the woman and her cloak. "It isss very beautiful, isssn't it? The red eye isss very bright. but it isss cold for you, I think." Muri ducks her head shyly and nods, her hands twisting around each other. There's a pause, as if she's gathering her thoughts, then she looks skyward again and begins to pace the walk, never getting closer, but never drawing back. "Ah come here's t' see de stars and t'look fer de rivers," she says. "They's de same but different to den wot's we got over de Wall." She looks toward the great basin. "Dat come 'bout by river water er by de rains?" She glances at Aeseyri, the back at her hands again. "I do not know? It isss alwaysss there." Aeseyri's curiosity is obvious as he sets the broom aside.. and glides closer. And.. yes. Closer. Personal space, it seems, remains a horribly foreign concept as he leans down, trying to peer into that hood with wide, crimson eyes. "Are the ssstarsss different? They dancsse through the night - I have watched them, and I have climbed into very high treesss, but they are very high and I could not reach them." Muri's eyes widen as Aeseyri draws closer to her, then she blinks rapidly, following his gaze as best she can with hers. "Aye me," she says to herself as she draws her hood back, revealing a cascade of brown hair, wispy and unbound. "De stars be de same lookin' at dem, but dey feel different fer me. Dis place is bigger, I thin', somehow wid der bein' no Wall tween it and the h'rizon." She looks to the nearby trees. "Ah ne'er thought t'climb to catch em. Dey say dat dey can't be touched, but some night, don't ya thin, sometimes it seems if'n ye could reach high enough, ye could?" She looks back, eyes shining, her shyness abated for a moment. "Cor, yer talkin' t' me," she says. "Ah've come some over de course o'a month and no one's cept a few Freefolk have talked t'me here." She bobs a strange curtsey. "M'name's Muri, Messer. Good t'meet." "Why would no one talk to you?" The naga seems vaguely mystified, but in a happy sort of dart, he circles her, reaching out to take her hands - awful close, indeed. "I remember myssself asss Aessseyri. What isss thisss name 'Messer'?" He mimics her accent remarkably well, in that single word. "Ye member yerself as..?" Muri says, her brow furrowing. "Oh, yer name's Aes, Aeser... Aeseyri? Ye be de fren' o' Messer Sandrim and de Lady Mikin, Aye?" She chews her lower lip and reaches a hand to the naga. "Dey good folk, Ah thin." She watches the way his body moves, her head tilted and her face revealing fascination. "Messer means... ah... not a noble an' not a peasant, Ah guess. Means... means Ah'm hopin' we c'n be friends." Her cheeks redden. "I would like that, yesss." His eyes are wide, his smile - though his teeth are sharp - is warm. "I think they are very good, yesss." the naga leans in close, stage-whispering, in an oddly grave way. "It isss very important that I asssk you sssomething." Muri stills her body as the naga comes even closer to her. "Wot.. wot...?" she stammers. "Wot would ye ask me?" She tries to keep eye contact with him; this seems keep her calm. Aeseyri asks, gravely, and with a /vast/ amount of seriousness. "Do you like pie?" Muri bursts into laughter, both in relief and amusement. "Lahk pie?" she exclaims. "Lahk pie? Wot cook, don?" She giggles into her open hand. "Ah lahks pie so much, Ah make it every day, twice when I gets a chance. Me fav'rites apple." She looks at him, her eyes dancing in delight. "Ye lahk's pie? Wot kine?" ".. you can /make/ pie?" Oh, that is /incredulous/, and happy, Aes's coils shifting .. and as they're around her, that's likely an interesting shift - "Will you ssshow me? I have to free them from where they are not being eaten by me. It isss very sssad. But if I could /make/ them it would not be sssad anymore." Being taken up in the coils of a snake-like being was not something Muri expected when she went wandering through the Refuge that night. Her head spins slightly but thankfully she does not faint. "Free de pies?" she says, hiccuping suddenly. "Aye, tis sad when de pies all gone. Ah, Ah, don' know if'n Ah c'n teach ye. 'ave ye ever cooked anythin?" "I have set fire to a sssteak!" Aeseryi says that with a great deal of pride, squeezing her hands. "I do not know if that wass cooking, though." Muri smiles and squeezes Aeseryi's hands in return. "Tis cookin' after a fashion," she says. "Makin' pies means a bit more. Der's cuttin' fruit and mixin' it wif good spices and sugar, and den makin' de crust wid butter and flour." She chuckles again. "Den de whole mess gets baked in an oven till it's good 'n hot. Wot kin' pie ye likes best?" "... Rhizssa makesss very good onesss." Not unhappy, but a bit uncertain, the naga shifts to the side, watching Muri with abrupt concern. "Are you cold? It isss warmer by the water, with a fire, or if you wissh, I think I have a blanket and you could have it if you are cold." Muri reluctantly lets Aeseryi's hands go and she draws her cloak around her closer. "Tis cold, aye," she says. "But talkin wid ye, Ah hardly notice." She shivers, as if being reminded of the cold has made her colder and she moves to catch a glimpse of the fire. "Aye, warmth of the fire be a good idear." She smiles. "T'ankee fer thinkin' o' me so. Risa makes pies fer ye too?" There's a bit of disappointment in her voice. "If'n ye ever goes t' see Lady Mikin, mebbe Ah c'n show ye at her place how t'make pies." "No. I free them from her after she makesss them for everyone elssse." Aes waits patiently for her to draw that cloak around her.. and then offers his hand again, before slowly slithering down toward the flame, inviting, "... why doess everyone call her a lady when it isss obviousss ssshe isss a woman? It isss very odd." Muri smiles and shyly takes Aeseryi's hand again letting him lead her along the stone pathway. "Most wimmins ain't Ladies," Muri comments with a chuckle. "De Lady Mikin, wahl...She be from a special family, see, one tha's big and has lots of land round it, and she takes care of all de people dat live on dat land." She pauses, looking skyward, thinking again. "Is lahk dis. Don' ye thin de Lady Mikin's someone special? She be kind, an warm, an fergivin, an' thoughtful to all sorts o' folk even when deys mean and hateful an such. Wahl dat makes her a Lady more'n anythin' else Ah reckon." "But you are nicsse and kind and warm - ssso thisss makesss you a Lady. But I am not sssure if there isss a family you call yoursss.." Aeseyri hmms, clearly giving that a great deal of thought. "If there isss a man who isss kind and warm and forgiving and thoughtful and everything would you call him 'lady' too?" Muri laughs out loud and covers her mouth her free hand. "Ah thin if'n ye called a man a Lady, he'd lahk to do ye harm," she says. "Bes' not t'do dat de next time ye's past de Aria. No, a man dats like de Lady Mikin be called a Lord, owin' t'him bein' born a man and him bein' of a family lahk de Mikins. Me family is small, very small, and me bruther, he be de one takin' care of dem all now, 'ceptin' me, an' believe ye me, he ain't got de kindness nor warmth t'be a Lord, not by far." "It isss sssad." Aeseyri draws up next to that fire - and then.. well, coils there, not letting go of that hand, smiling to the woman. "I do not have a family, but it isss very interesssting how different they are. But they are good thingsss, yesss?" He hmms, curiously. "Muri. You have only one name? It isss good. It isss hard to remember when there are many namess." Muri's eyes cloud with concern. "Hain't ye gots nobody t'call yer own?" she asks. "Nobody dun helped ye when ye was litt'ler?" She steps close to the fire and closes her eyes for a moment to let the warmth reach her face. "Fam'lies be how we get t'growin' but sometimes lahk de ways trees grows too close t'each other and de seem t'fight fer de light, fam'lies can do harm as much as good. Sometimes more, in fact." She opens her eyes again. "Ah's sometimes called Woodhill on account Ah like's to look at de land from up high on a hill 'neath a tree. But youse can remembers me by Muri. Ah'd be right honored by dat." "Then it isss Muri that I will remember." Aeseyri looks curiously at her, then says, "There are no little Sssyladrisss.." He considers that. "You mean like the little children onesss of your kind?" Muri nods. "Aye, de small ones dats growin'" she says. "Yer folk don' have smalls?" She tilts her head. "Are der ones dats older den ye dats teaches ye stuff?" Brightly. "There isss Tssshepssi, but sshe hasss not taught me anything .. well, ssshe hasss, but it isss very odd." Aeseyri moves up next to her, that single coil going to loop around her again, contented. "I do not think the Sssyladriss do. I do not remember." Muri is becoming comfortable with the feel of coils against her and she hardly flinches. She reaches over and pats Aeseryi's hand. "Is all right," she says. "Wot do ye remember? Ah mean, what's de fust memory ye gots?" "It wasss sssunsshine." Aes captures her hand in his, smiling, looking up. "It wass very, very warm, and there wass grasss everywhere and thesse flying thingss that were very beautiful, but they are gone now. The leavesss on the treesss were like fire." Muri looks skyward and tries to imagine the Harvest season near her home. "Dat's a beauti'ful mem'ry," she says. "Ah remembers seein' de river fer de fust time, all glittery blue wid de wind. De barges goin' up and down, and us goin' t'take flour down t' de dock, squawkers all jabbery at us." She smiles. "Yesss? I have never ssseen a barge - but I have heard of them. They are big houssesss that float on the water?" The naga shifts to face her fully, eyes wide and curious. And then he asks an odd question indeed, uncertain. "Sssandrim sssays that the treesss will be green. But he teasssesss sssometimess." Muri smiles and nods. "Aye, ye could say dem barges be houses dat's floats," she says. "Dey hook em together though sometimes, and den deys looking like a whole line of em goin' down de rivers. Tis a sight, aye. If'n ye comes up my ways, up near Hawk's Aerie, Ah promises t' bake ye a pie and show ye de barges." She returns his gaze steadily and warmly. "Messer Sandrim's right," she says. "Dem trees o'r der and all over will gets leaves an' turn green soon. Hain't ye never seen trees green afore? Ye's seen em lookin' lahk fire, but nots green?" Aeseyri nods, at that. "I did not know they could be green." The syladris offers, brightly. "There isss a party-thing in a placsse called 'Fanghill'. Issss thisss near the Hawk'ss Aerie?" "Party thing?" Muri asks, blinking for a moment or two. "Oh, de Ball! Aye, der be a gatherin' of noble folk at Fanghill in a day er two. Me fren' Zia's playin' music der. Should be a wun'erful time. But no, 'fraid Hawk's be futher ways than Fanghill. Ye thinkin' o' goin'?" "Yesss. I wass given a /letter/.." His eyes are wide and happy - "It would not be polite not to and maybe I could sssee passst the gate if they will let me go, but I do not know where I will find night." Aes shifts slightly - something in how he moves making it obvious he offers a loop of tail as a sort of seat. "Tell me of the placsse passt the ssshining wall? I have not ssseen much of it." "Ye's was invited special," Muri says. "Aye, dat's an honor t'be sure. De Lady Mikin will help ye, Ah'm sure, wif de gate, and fer findin' night... Wahl ye jus' have t' wait till de day is done, den night be der." She glances at the seat offered her, then to Aes uncertainly, then takes a breath and settles herself down. "Ah grow'd up in a place called Wedgecrest an Ah've been t' Lightholder and t'Sweetwater and t'de Trademeet o'course," she says. "Every place der's people, but some places deres more trees den others, or more buildin's then others. Sort of depends on where folk want t'be ah gather. Didja lahk Light's Reach all right?" Aeseyri wraps his arms around her, happily, listening avidly. "It isss very nicsse. The Horde Cssity isss very much fun and everyone wasss watching me and I felt very pretty, and they gave me thingsss to eat." "Horde City?" Muri asks. "Cain't says Ah've been der, but Ah'm glad dey treated ye right. Light's Reach be mostly building's, aye? But den der's Sweetwater where ders more land then buildings. De plant all sorts of thin's there dats can be mades int' t'good foods. De Duchess Sweetwater's lettin' me start a small farm der. Messer Sandrim's gonna plant trees fer me, apricots, so's Ah kin have fresh ones fer me roasted chickens." "Yesss - it isss the Dragon'sss cccity, and the Child of Sssky sssaid the Sssyladrisss could play there." Aes laughs, warm and rich. "But it isss what you call Light'ss Reach." More seriously. "Be careful. There are treesss that are very mean." Muri's eyes widen. "Ye've... ye've talked wid... dragons?" she says slowly. "Ah.. deys... ain't dey stories?" She blinks and nervously smoothes her cloak at her lap. Then she chuckles, Aes' final words sinking in. "Did a tree ... attack you?" "Yesss. It tried to eat me but then it did not and gave me an egg." Aeseyri seems /quite/ serious, nodding once. "The Child of Sssky wasss very real. Ssshe made the not-nicsse man who called himssself noble leave the Refuge." Muri blinks again. "A tree... gave ye... an egg?" she says, trying to understand. "Were you trying to climb de tree, er somefin and mebbe a big ol mama bird done afear'd ye and..." she shakes her head. "Nevermind... Ah promise t'be careful 'round de trees." She sighs. "Ah'm sorry if'n noble folk dun be dis'onrable here. Ah'm glad ye've got... ah dragon? Cor, a dragon, t'watch o'r ye. Wot's she lahk? De.. Child of de Sky?" "He isss very pretty, with eyess of Light and a very nicsse sssmile." Aeseyri thinks for a moment. "but ssshe isss with him. It wasss very odd to sssee." He leans in, hugging her with a gentle laugh. "You ssshould ssstay? Perhapsss you will meet her." Muri inclines her body toward Aes, receiving the hug with a smile. "He?" she asks. "She? Oh, ders two dragons den? Ah could stay a bit, but soon Ah'll have t' get back t' workin' at de tavern." "There isss a man like you but not /you/ - he isss taller and .. but he isss not Sssyladrisss. And Ssshe isss with him, but I think ssshe isss hiding a little. He isss very nicsse." Aes, as cuddling is not rebuffed, happily does so - he is warm. Remarkably so. "It isss alright if you ssstay. But if you mussst go, then you mussst go - " He pauses, then asks. "You sssaid before that no one ssspoke to you here? It isss very sstrange." Muri lays her head against the warmth of Aes' scales, her fear completely gone. She looks skyward. "A menfolk from Fastheld, ye say?" she says. "An de Sky Child's wid him?" She shakes her head. "Always Ah comes here, an' always Ah learns somethin' more than Ah ever thought der could be." She sighs happily. "Ah thin' de Syladris Ah saw were very busy, doin'... whatever ye folk do when ye's not here. It's de same past de Aria - folk goin' about dey's days. Ah'm glad ye was here t'night t'talk wid." His coils shift under her, his expression delighted. "You are? I am glad you would talk with me. I do not know that I am ssso interesssting asss that. There are not many who wisssh to anymore." The naga unashamedly snuggles closer, if that's even possible. "Are you warm? You sssaid the ssstarsss were different here?" Muri chuckles. "Ah cain't imagine anytin' more interestin' den ye," she says. "Ceptin' mebbe dat dragon or dat Sky Child, and dems not here." She lifts a hand to point to the sky. "See, ye c'n look straight up aye?" She moves her hand to the horizon to her left, the view obscured by the tents at the low side. "And still ye sees stars der, aye?" She moves her arm again and points to her right. "An' more der." She drops her hand again, tucking it into the opposite sleeve. "Pas' de Aria, ye'd see Wall or the shadow of the Wall all round, not just mountains, er buildin's. De Wall. De say it pr'tects us, an mebbe it does, but dem stars...dem stars here is lahk a river only aboves instead o' belows." She nods as if to make her statement a certainty. "The wall isss fear." Aeseyri says that with an odd certainty. "It iss not what it ssseemsss to be." He asks, then, curiously, "Blackfoxsss told me a ssstory about the ssstarsss oncsse. Do you know any?" "A story 'bout stars?" Muri says. "Hrm... lemme thin'... deys one me ma tol me, how dere was no stars when de world was made and der was dis woman who had a... a bit of jewelry in her hair, liken a crown er a ti'ara. An she lahk it very much, cept when it was time t'pound de rice. So she set dat crown up on a hook on de sky and start a poundin', boom boom boom, liftin' de pestle and droppin it t' get de husk off. Wahl every time her hand go up, she bump de sky and de crown go up and up, till she cain't reach it no more. An dats how dat bunch of stars..." She points up to curve of stars above. "...come t'be." Aes hangs on every word of that, staring up along her hand when she points, eyes very wide. "Yesss? Ssshe mussst have been very large. It isss very very high." He squeezes, just a bit, happily. "It isss a very good ssstory." Muri blushes and ducks her head, letting her hair fall to cover her face for a moment. "Twas me ma's story," she says. "Ah was jus' sharin' it wid ye. Cain't says if'n the woman wid de crown was big or ifin' de sky was closer in do'se story days." She yawns enormously and catches herself. "Aye me, pardon," she says. "Does ye folk sleeps at night er by day?" "It dependsss on when we are tired. I am not now but.." Aeseyri offers, quite seriously, "If you wisssh to ussse my tent you can very much or there iss an inn not far. It would be warmer for you there unlesss you wissshed me to hold you asss you ssslept." He hmmms. "But I think maybe I can find more blanketsss, if you wisssh." "Ye sleeps when ye's tired," Muri repeats. "Tha's a life Ah could get used to." She smiles and sits up. "Ye's don' know wot yer askin' aye? Wid folk lahk me, well, offerin' yer tent or even yerself while's Ah sleep... dat's... uncommon..." She blushes and looks down at her hands again, before getting to her feet. "Ah best be gettin' to an inn, Messer Aeseyri. Ah hope Ah c'n see ye agin'." She offers her hand to him. Aeseyri? He just hugs her - bypassing that hand entirely, happily. "I would very much like that. It would be very nicsse, Muri. Thank you for telling me the ssstory. And you will teach me to make pie!" Muri's breath catches as he hugs her and she leans into his chest for a moment, then wraps her arms around him. "Thankee," she says. "And Light keep ye till we meet." She draws back and looks deeply into Aeseyri's eyes a moment before releasing him. "Visit me and I promise to show you how to bake a apple pie." She smiles crookedly, wraps her cloak more tightly around her body and steps down the path. 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